Anonymous Friend
by BittyBlueEyes
Summary: Fred comes across one of Hermione's journal entries. He wants to help, but is unsure how to go to her.
1. Chapter 1

It was a day like any other. I was frantically restocking shelves as fast as the school-aged children bought them. It was a busy time of year for us. As I stocked a display at the front of the store, I looked out the window to the bustling street that was Diagon Alley. I almost didn't see her through the passing crowds of people. She sat alone at a table outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. As usual, she had a book open in front of her. But instead of reading it, she seemed to writing it. Her ice cream sundae, barely touched, was melting in the sun. Her quill moved quickly across the page. Nothing looked out of place except her furrowed eyebrows and puffy red eyes. Something was wrong… She suddenly slammed the quill onto the table and ripped the page out of the book. The quick jerk of her hand knocked her sundae to the ground. The glass dish broke upon the cobble stone street. She angrily crumpled the paper in her hands and threw it to the open trash bin near the door. Her attention immediately returned to the mess of glass, and did not notice that the paper had fallen off the rim of the bin, onto the shadowed ground under the shop window. With a flick of her wand, the ice cream vanished, and another wave repaired the glass dish. She closed her book carefully and looked up for the first time. Tears were running down her soft cheeks. She turned on her heel and disapperated.

I informed George that I was going to step out for a minute. He looked flustered as I left him in a swarm of excited children. He'd forgive me if I bought him an ice cream. I walked across the street and directly into the shadows that hid the crumpled, discarded paper. I smoothed it out the best I could. It looked like the page of a journal. Both sides of the paper were covered in Hermione's loopy, miniscule handwriting, though it seemed to look a little rushed and angry. I flipped it over again and started to read.

_Aug. 26, 2000_

_Life is just too hard sometimes. I struggle through every day, no one understanding or caring how I feel. Everyone thinks that because I'm strong-willed that I'm somehow unbreakable or unfeeling. I put all of myself in everything that I do just to watch as my efforts go unnoticed. Today I submitted my proposal to the head of our department and he almost literally laughed in my face. I understand that my ambitions for house elves are ideas that will take years to be considered, but I did feel that ending physical abuse of house elves was rather realistic. I almost cried at the response. The weeks of effort I put in on my own time, just to have my proposal laughably tossed aside. I feel absolutely humiliated. How worthless all my efforts have been. I desperately need a friend to talk to. It hurts so much – I don't want to be alone. But I actually feel even more alone when I think of my friends. I know that if I go to any of them, they __will__ actually laugh in my face. They have shown me time and time again how silly and ridiculous they think my ideas are. Silly little Hermione and her crazy ideas. They could never understand just what this means to me. Sometimes I feel as alone and apart from the world as one of the beings that I strive to protect, and like them, I'm misunderstood and uncared for. What's the use in trying? Maybe I am just stupid and unrealistic. If everyone else thinks so, I must be. Sometimes it feels like life just isn't worth living. Sometimes I just want to end it all. What's the point of living if you're alone and worthless? It seems that nobody really even knows me. Could I even be really missed? I wish_

The entry was not finished. She'd just had enough. I stared at the page, not knowing what to do. I had no idea, before now, how hurt and alone she was. My insides felt like lead. What could I do to help?

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	2. Chapter 2

Night had fallen and I was all alone, once again, in my one bedroom flat. I sat sideways on my sofa with my knees pulled up to my chest. I glanced at the coffee table that was covered in parchment and a thick book of Wizard Law. I was supposed to have finished the work earlier in the day, but I just couldn't bring myself to get back to it. What was the point? What good would it do? No one ever really cared in my line of work. Most in my department were concerned more with regulations against magical creatures than for the protection of them. Maybe I should have chosen a different career. I sighed and placed my chin on my knees. Maybe I should just head to bed.

A tap on the window startled me. I looked through the open kitchen and there on the sill of the kitchen window was a handsome tawny owl. I didn't recognize the owl and curiously walked to the window. When I opened the window, the bird gently flew to my kitchen table and waited to remove the letter from it's leg. I reached into the small jar and pulled out an owl treat, which seemed great appreciated. Some of the only appreciation I've gotten lately, I thought bitterly. The owl exited through the open window and I turned over the letter. It read "Miss Hermione Granger" on the front in tall neat purple ink.

_Aug. 26, 2000_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I saw you today in Diagon Alley, even though you did not see me. I was extremely concerned by how sad and defeated you looked. I saw the paper you dropped near the trash bin. Though I know I shouldn't have, I read it. It hurts to know just how much you've been struggling. But don't, for one single moment, believe that you are stupid or worthless. You are the brightest witch that I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. If someone can't see that, then they are only blinded by their own stupidity. A kind and gentle soul like yours should never have to feel so unappreciated. I truly admire the dedication you have in pursuing justice. And the pursuit of justice is never a worthless effort. _

_You are not alone in the world. There are many people who care greatly for you, and I happen to be one of them. I highly recommend that you go to your friends with your feelings. Though they may not understand or support your ideas, they love you and will support you through the tough times in your life. Do not feel that life is hopeless. There are always difficult times in life, but life is always worth living. It can't stay cloudy forever; eventually the sun will shine again. Keep your chin up, Hermione. I'll be thinking of you._

_your anonymous friend_

_P.S. If you ever again feel that you can't turn to your friends, I will always be here for you. Just address a letter to "Anon" (for "Anon"ymous friend) and give it to Mr. Florean Fortescue. He'll be sure I receive it._

I was crying by the time I had finished the letter. It was partly because of how embarrassed I felt that someone had read my journal entry. But mostly, it was such a relief to read the words that I begged to hear - I am not worthless and there is someone out there who cares.

I read the letter a few more times before I really started to wonder who the writer might be. The handwriting certainly didn't belong to Harry, Ron, or Ginny. And they were all at work when I was in Diagon Alley. I couldn't imagine who else might send me such a beautiful letter.

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	3. Chapter 3

It was almost closing time when Florean Fortescue walked into my shop. He was such a kind looking old wizard. He wore a large smile as he walked up to the counter. He had short fly-away white hair and was, as usual, wearing bright snappy dress robes. I knew exactly why he had come, because he rarely visited our shop. I looked down at the letter in his hand and became a little nervous. Hermione had written back. I hoped that my letter made her feel better, but I was afraid that she might think that I was prying. I was afraid she might be angry that I read her most private thoughts.

"Good day, Mr. Weasley," Mr. Fortescue greeted.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fortescue," I returned. "What can I do for you today?"

"Please, please, call me Florean," he insisted. "Now, I apologize for not knowing, but which one are you?"

I knew exactly what he meant. Most people had a difficult time telling George and I apart. Our own mother even struggled at times, although that probably had to do with how many times George and I pretended to be the each other. "I would be Fred," I smiled. "And I have an idea why you've come. She wrote back, hasn't she?"

"She has indeed, Mr. Weasley," He handed me the envelope addressed "Anon."

"She didn't see you bring it here, did she?" I worried.

"No," he answered. "She dropped it off a few hours ago. As you requested, I waited awhile before delivering it."

"Thanks again, Mr. For- Florean. I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, Fred. She's a very sweet girl." Mr. Fortescue nodded and left the store.

"What have you got there?" asked George, walking up behind me. "Who's 'Anon'?"

"No one," I said. I thought it best to wait until later to read the letter, but I really couldn't wait. The store wasn't busy so I stole into the back room and opened the letter.

_Aug. 27, 2000_

_Dear Friend,_

_I really don't know what to say. I feel terribly embarrassed that you came upon my journal entry. I never intended anyone to see it. I must have seemed so pathetic, wallowing in self pity._

_I really appreciate that you took the time to write that kind letter. It really feels nice to know that someone out there cares - that someone believes in me. _

_You're right that I do have amazing friends. And I guess they would be there for me if I told them how I was really feeling. But it's so hard to come out and tell them how I'm feeling. They don't know this side of me. I don't know what they'd do. I don't know how I could look at them after telling them just how depressed I've been. My complaints feel so foolish. After all my friends and I have been through... the war and the loss of so many friends. My loneliness and stress at work seem so petty._

_Thank you again for your letter. You have no idea what it means to me._

_Hermione Granger_

I felt relieved when I read it. She hadn't been angry and it did make her feel better, just as I had hoped it would.

I slipped the letter into my pocket and returned to the store to help George close up.


	4. Chapter 4

I was shuffling through the papers on my desk, trying to catch up on the work that I'd been putting off. I never let myself get behind, but lately my heart just hadn't been in it. The letter from "Anon" seemed to give me the push I needed to get back on track. I looked at the clock, I had only 20 minutes to finish up before my next appointment arrived. A new werewolf was coming to see me about Werewolf Support Services. It was awkward the way the department was split. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was made up of three separate divisions: Beasts, Beings and Spirits. I worked in the Beings division and helped with Werewolf Support Services, but the Werewolf Capture Unit and Werewolf Registry were still under the devils in the Beasts Division. I often thought of the injustices done to werewolves and Remus Lupin always came to mind. What a kind man he was, and he had few more rights than magical beasts. This was another of the reasons I chose my post. The house elves may not want help, but werewolves needed it.

There was a knock on the door and I looked up as Randolph Keddle, the head of the department, walked into my office. I was stunned - just utterly perplexed. I had worked in this department for nearly three years and this was the first time he set foot in my office, the first time he sought me out at all.

"Do you have a minute, Miss Granger?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. _'Oh God, he's going to sack me. I got too far behind, or maybe it was the house elf proposal...'_

He was a little stiff as he spoke and was most obviously uncomfortable. "I thought I should come down here to apologize. I realize that I really wasn't fair in considering your House Elf proposal. It is obvious that you have put a lot of thought into it and seemed to work out most of the logistics. I've sent the proposal out for consideration of the committee. You shouldn't expect too much from it. I'm sure they'll send it back demanding something more, and you can expect a lot more work falling in your lap from it, but it is out there."

I was stunned. I had absolutely no idea what to say. I just sat there gaping like an idiot. I finally came back to life and thanked him profusely. He transferred a letter from his right hand to his left, in order to shake my hand. That's when I noticed it. The letter he held had was addressed in purple ink. The tall neat handwriting was unmistakable. At first I wondered if he could possibly be "Anon" but dismissed the idea immediately. The purple writing very obviously addressed Mr. Randolph Keddle.

At that moment, Cuthbert Mockridge popped his head in the door. "I'm sorry, am I interrupting?"

"No, no, Mockridge, I was just leaving," replied Mr. Keddle.

"Thank you, again, Mr. Keddle," I said as he left.

"This came for you, Hermione," said Cuthbert as he handed me a letter addressed in, the now familiar, purple ink. "And Eunice told me to let you know that the werewolf coming in can't make it today and wants to reschedule." He seemed to think I would be a relief that I didn't have to see the werewolf, but I was actually a little concerned. "I have to get going though. I'll see you around."

As soon as he left I ripped open the letter.

_Sept. 2, 2000_

_Dear Hermione, _

_Everyone goes through a time in their life when don't feel good about themselves. Everyone has a time when they look at their life and wonder where it's going. You shouldn't feel embarrassed to have those feelings. You just have to be able to remind yourself that you are a good person with many wonderful things to live for. Just take things as they come and don't worry too far ahead. And if you ever have a hard time with that, I'm happy to remind you. You're a very special person, Hermione._

_I still think it would help to go to your friends, but until you feel comfortable doing that, I'm here for you. I'm so glad that you feel that you can come to me._

_Your Anonymous Friend_

Another comforting letter... and still no idea who sent it. What did they send to Mr. Keddle? They wouldn't have spilled what she said, would they? Whatever they said, it had to be the reason behind Mr. Keddle's apology and newfound interest in my proposal.

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	5. Chapter 5

"What are _you_ doing here?" I playfully asked as my younger brother strolled up to the shop counter.

He seemed amused by my greeting and gave me a goofy half-sided smile.

"If you're coming for revenge on Ginny, I'm not selling," I smiled.

"No, although she certainly deserves it," He chuckled. "I'm actually here on business. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement is interested in purchasing more instant darkness powder and shield hats for the Auror Headquarters. And I personally could go for another Spell-Checking Quill, that is if you'll sell to me."

"As long as you don't have dark plans for it," I laughed as I pulled out an order form and handed it to Ron along with a Self-Inking Quill. "So how is work?" I asked.

"Not bad. Harry and I just got an anonymous tip on a wizard that's been out there for awhile. If it pans out, we might be gone for a few months though."

"How's Hermione?" I inquired.

"Hermione? She's fine, as far as I know," He paused and thought a moment. "I haven't actually seen her lately though. We've both been rather busy. Why?"

"Nothing really. I just saw her a few days ago and she was looking kind of down. I just wondered what was wrong." I didn't really have to wonder, but I hoped that this statement would get him wondering.

"I don't know," Ron looked a little concerned. "I should really probably get together with her. Maybe we could have a night with Harry and Ginny."

"Yeah, don't invite me..." I teased.

He laughed. "I'm sorry. Would you and George like to come?"

"Thanks for the offer, little brother. But we're much too busy this evening."

"Then why did you...? You never change, do you?"

"Just like your spelling skills..." I took the completed form and handed him the Spell-Checking Quill he'd requested.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "I'll be back for that order in two weeks. But I think I'll see you at Mum's tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. We'll be there. See you then." I answered.

As Ron opened the door, an owl flew in. I removed the letter from it's leg. The envelope was addressed to Mr. Fred Weasley. Inside was a short letter along with another envelope.

_Dear Fred, _

_This letter arrived yesterday morning. I am very sorry for it's late delivery, but I have not been able to break away from work as my assistant is ill. I beg your forgiveness._

_Florean Fortescue_

The second envelope was, as expected, addressed 'Anon.'

_Sept. 3, 2000_

_Dear Friend, _

_Though I'm sure your intentions are good, I was very embarrassed indeed when I saw my boss holding a letter most obviously written by you. Of course, I hoped he would take me seriously, but I highly doubt that he genuinely takes me seriously even now. Now he's acting guilty. I don't want my boss to pity me! I want to be __**respected!**__ And respect is something that only I can earn. _

_I appreciate your concern and that you're trying to help. But I'd appreciate it if you kept out of my work._

_Hermione Granger_

_P.S. What __**exactly**__ did you tell him?_

I had angered her. Why did she have to see that letter? At least she didn't read it. I only hoped that she will let me explain.


	6. Chapter 6

I sat quietly at the large wooden table while conversations buzzed around me in several directions. The Weasleys were such an animated group. I always enjoyed a visit to their home; it was like a second home to me. I immediately agreed to come when Ron invited me yesterday, but now that I was here, the sinking lonely feeling started aching inside me again. How could I possibly feel so lonely when surrounded by such a large group? Lately I've just felt so separate from everyone. It had to be something I was doing to myself though. Not a single person around that table excluded me in any way. It was because I was depressed and I knew it. I just kept hiding inside myself so that no one else could see. I was pulling away; it wasn't them that was unreachable, it was me.

My mind wandered again to the only person who knew how I was feeling. I never felt so free when I read his letters. Well, I had somehow assumed it was a "he" - I was almost certain it was a "he" even though I wasn't sure how. It was two days since I sent him that angry letter and I was deeply regretting it. I was upset that he had said something to my boss, but I was even more upset that I might have pushed away the only person who truly knew me right now.

"Alright, Hermione?" Fred asked. My emotional mask had slipped while I was thinking and I quickly hitched my smile and sparkly eyes back into place. No one else seemed to have noticed as they were still chatting loudly.

"Yeah, just tired," I lied. "So, how's work been?"

"Ah, finally slowing down a bit now that school's back. We still have regular foot traffic, but in the next week or so, I imagine we'll be doing more business by mail. Well, except for that large ministry order."

"Speaking of the Ministry," Ron seemed to have transferred conversations at Fred's last sentence. But he now spoke to the table at large. "Harry and I just got the big lead we've been waiting for. The next couple weeks we're going to be in..."

"Ron!" Harry interrupted.

"Right... We're going to be out of country..." Ron seemed to have almost spilled something he shouldn't.

"When are you leaving?" Mrs. Weasley looked rather upset at the news. Harry and Ginny had exchanged looks. He must have told her earlier.

"Tomorrow," Harry answered.

I again thought of how petty my worries seemed. Harry and Ron were out chasing dark wizards. Ginny's fiancé was leaving the country and she was surely worried for his safety. I had no right to feel as depressed as I was. But this idea only made me feel worse.

The entire room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. It was a horrible silence. The Burrow was never meant to be a place of quiet. The silence was broken by a tap at the kitchen window. Mrs. Weasley bustled from her chair to open the window. A handsome tawny owl stepped proudly in. This movement seemed to break the ice and the table once again thundered in a handful of conversations.

"Hermione, dear, it's for you," Mrs. Weasley handed me the letter. The purple ink almost made me cry. I so badly wanted to get another letter from 'Anon' but how horrible I'd been in my last to him... I had no idea what I should expect to read.

I thought I should hold onto it until I got home. But surely I'd burst before then. I looked around to make sure everyone was busy, then opened the letter and held it against my lap so no one else would see.

_Sept. 5, 2000_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm very, very sorry that I upset you. I did not mean to embarrass you. And I would never dream of revealing anything from your journal entry with anyone, most especially your boss. Randy Keddle happens to be a friend of mine from years ago. The letter I sent him was a friendly one catching up on both of our families. I'd be lying if I said I didn't mention you. But I simply mentioned that you were a friend of mine and casually asked what he thought of your house elf proposal. I only wanted him to feel the need to look over your proposal again. I do not think that he pities you, he only realized how rude he'd been. Any guilt he might have is not my doing. _

_Again, I'm very, very sorry. I promise you that I will never again interfere with your work. I really hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me._

_Your Anonymous Friend._

I was crying again. I had jumped to conclusions. He had not revealed me to my boss and how silly it seemed that I would think that. I quickly wiped my eyes, hoping no one would see, but I was too late.

Fred was staring across the table at me again. He looked genuinely concerned as he stared into my eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked quietly.

I sniffled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. It's a good letter, not a bad one," I explained as he eyed the paper I was folding.

"Good," he smiled softly at me and I blushed. I should have waited until I got home to read it.

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	7. Chapter 7

"With raspberry sauce!" George yelled as I walked out of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. He knew I could still hear his muffled shouts as I closed the door behind me. "And don't eat my flake!"

I chuckled to myself as I walked toward the familiar ice cream parlor. Mr. Fortescue was cleaning the bar as I entered. He quickly stowed the bar rag under the counter and smiled broadly.

"Afternoon," I greeted. "I need a Knickerbocker Glory and a 99 with Monkey's Blood… extra flake."

I retrieved a handful of coins from my pocket and started counting out what I needed. George and I had come here so often since our store opened, I knew exactly how much everything cost. I looked up confused, finally realizing that Mr. Fortescue hadn't moved. Instead he seemed to be studying my carefully. I shifted under his gaze.

"You're Fred." He said it as a statement, but the hint of a question hung on his tone.

I laughed as I realized that he was simply making an effort to decipher whether it was me or George. "Guilty," I replied.

"I'm getting there, I think," He smiled. He looked past my shoulder, searching the store and the tables outside. "She left not five minutes before you got here." He slid an envelope onto the counter and turned back to his work. I nervously looked over my shoulder. The coast was clear and I shoved the letter into my pocket.

A minute later, I was back on the cobbled street with a cup of ice cream in each hand. I laughed at my brother's earlier order and took a bite out of one of his chocolate flakes. At least I got him an extra this time…

"Fred?"

I startled and tripped, not watching where I was going. I somehow managed to steady myself and the ice creams.

"Hermione," I greeted through a mouthful of chocolate. I swallowed hard to clear my mouth and felt the chocolate lodge uncomfortably, half way to my stomach. "What are you doing here?"

She smiled. "I have the afternoon off. Well, kind of. I'm meeting Professor McGonagall in half an hour. I shouldn't hold you up though, your ice cream is melting…"

"Walk with me then," I was glad to see her smile and take stride next to me. "I hope I'm not being too nosy, but what are you meeting McGonagall about?"

"Oh," Hermione's smile suddenly faded and I wanted to kick myself. "It's about work… Yesterday I met with a new werewolf. She's just a girl – twelve years old. She got bit last Christmas. She'd really like to return to school. I'm going to see if we can work out an arrangement like Professor Lupin. Clean up the shrieking shack and make sure she's given Wolfsbane Potion. I'm sure we'll figure things out but…"

"It's heartbreaking," I finished. "Terrible to see it happen to anyone, but especially someone so young."

She nodded.

"Do you think you could grab the door for me?" I asked as we stopped in front of the shop. Her smile returned.

"Of course," She held the door open for me and followed me to the counter.

"Oi! It's about time!" George cried, swooping down on his ice cream. "I'm dying of starvation over here. What took you so long?"

"Well, lunch is served," I laughed. He didn't waste a second before attacking his sundae.

"Hey! There's a bite outta my flake," he scowled with his mouthful.

"Did you want some ice cream, Hermione?" I asked, offering her my Knickerbocker Glory.

"Oh, Hi, Hermione," George finally took his eyes off his ice cream and noticed her.

"No thanks, Fred. I actually just had some a few minutes ago. Anyway, I really should get going. I don't want to be late. It was great to see you though. Enjoy you 'lunch'" She smiled and waved as she left the store.

Before George could look up again, I was in the back room with my letter. I'd waited impatiently for days for her response.

_Sept. 9, 2000_

_Dearest Friend,_

_I'm very sorry for not responding sooner. A lot has happened the last few days, and I haven't found time to write._

_I'm even sorrier for my previous letter. I feel absolutely terrible. I should not have jumped to conclusions the way that I did. There's nothing to forgive on your part. I only hope that you can forgive me. _

_I can't thank you enough for what you did. Mr. Keddle did look over my proposal again and even gave it to the committee for consideration. I couldn't have hoped for a better result. Now I just have to wait for the committee to decline it and get back to work. _

_Thank you again for being such a wonderful friend to me. Please – I'd really like to know who you are…_

_Hermione Granger_

I sighed in relief.


	8. Chapter 8

"So how did practice go today?" I asked, glancing over my shoulder at Ginny. She sat at my kitchen table looking completely exhausted. Her head was lazily supported by her hand. Although she took the time to change out of her Quidditch robes, her face was still smudged with dirt and grass stains. Her hair was still wet from the less-than-perfect weather conditions she was playing in.

"It was brutal. Coach was really pushing us through maneuvers today. She even had us try a couple new plays. She insists we need to be on the 'top of our game'" She mocked her coach's determined tone. "'Have to pull out all the stops.' She acts like we're headed to the world cup or something. I mean, our next game is versus the Chudley Cannons. Our team has never lost to them… hardly anyone has."

Ginny had been playing Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies for a little over a year, much to the disappointment of her brother, Ron, who still adamantly supported the Chudley Cannons. It seemed to put her in great physical condition… when she wasn't spent from practice.

"Well, she better lay off you a little, or you won't have any energy left for the game," I smiled.

I turned from the kitchen counter and set a heaping plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of her and at the seat opposite her and sat down. She seemed to perk up immediately at the sight of piping hot food. She denied her furious hunger and the urge to savagely attack the food only out of manners. She refused to act like the hungry beasts her brothers were.

"She could push us 'til we drop and we'd still win. We could beat the Cannons in our sleep." She chuckled. "I'm kind of glad that Ron won't be there. It's embarrassing to have him sitting in the stands supporting the opposite team."

"Speaking of Ron, have you heard from him and Harry yet?" I asked tentatively.

She let out a long sigh. "Yeah, I just got a letter from Harry today. They're doing alright. Things seem to be going better than expected. They hope to be back in just a week or two."

"That's great!" I replied.

We sat in silence for a moment, enjoying our dinner. It felt so good to have Ginny over. It'd been too long since we hung out, just the two of us. It felt like just the thing I needed. Not to mention it was the perfect distraction she needed from her lonely nights without Harry.

We were both startled from our thoughts by a gentle tap on the window. I barely heard it over the sound of the rain cascading down the fire escape. The violent rain sprayed into my kitchen as I opened the window. The owl looked slightly disgruntled as it alighted on my counter and fluffed it wet feathers. I smiled bashfully, though I don't know why, when I saw the purple writing. I untied the letter from the owl's leg and gave him an extra owl treat before it returned to the angry skies. I stuffed the letter into my back pocket and returned to the table.

"Aren't you going to read it?" Ginny asked.

"Later," I said.

"Oh my God!" Ginny gasped. "I know that look! You're seeing someone!"

"No!" I said.

"Yes, yes you are! Who?"

"No one, I swear."

Ginny eyed me suspiciously. "Well, you're smitten. That one thing is certain. But if you don't want to tell me…" She waited expectantly in hope of a response, but just chuckled after a moment when I didn't answer.

It was true that I was always more excited to get a letter from 'Anon' than I should be and I felt more sure than ever that it was a man, but I still had no idea who it might be. I was hoping this letter might tell me.

"So how's everything working out for that young werewolf?"

I was grateful to Ginny for changing the subject. "It all seems to be working out. Professor McGonagall agreed to give the arrangement a try. I'm actually helping to clean up the shrieking shack in the evenings. Well, the inside at least. The outside must still look foreboding to keep students and villagers at bay."

She merely nodded. "So… have you given any thoughts to your birthday? It is just a few days away."

"Well, I was supposed to go visit my parents, but I told them I already have plans. I honestly just want to…"

She cut me off. "Good. Because George, Fred, and I have decided to take you to the Leaky Cauldron."

I sighed.

"You're not getting out of it now. So you might as well enjoy it." She smiled at me in a way that suggested she understood. She seemed to know, without me saying, that I was dying to stay in, but desperately needed to get out. Ginny always had a way of seeing through me when others didn't.

Dinner was followed by bowls filled with incredibly too much ice cream, loads of giggles, and funny anecdotes from our days at Hogwarts. The hands of the clock flew by without our knowledge and upon finally glancing at it we decided our night had to end.

As soon as the door closed, my hand flew to the letter in my pocket.

_Sept. 12, 2000_

_Dear Hermione, _

_There is nothing to forgive on your part either. If I had been in your shoes, I assure you that I would have been a lot less kind. _

_Congratulations on your proposal! I glad that Ol' Randy gave it another look. His letter back to me had nothing but good things to say about your superb work and dedication – it hasn't gone unnoticed. _

_About knowing who I am… I'm actually a little nervous about revealing that. I really feel that our friendship has grown through our correspondence and I'm rather afraid of losing that. You too have been an amazing friend and I've enjoyed learning so much more about you. I apologize for not revealing myself yet. I just need a little more time to decide the best way to do it. I hope you understand._

_Your Anonymous Friend_

I let out a long sigh and smiled. I still didn't know who he was, but I did understand what he was saying. It's been rather nice having an anonymous friend, but I think it'd be so much more incredible to have another true friend. A friend that I could visit – a friend to laugh and cry with. Things felt so one-sided. He knew so much about me. I wanted to learn more about him.

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	9. Chapter 9

I sat at the desk in the back room trying fruitlessly to balance the books. I just couldn't seem to concentrate no matter how I tried. The numbers that ran down the columns danced around my brain in a jumbled mess. I glanced down at the parchment to my right. Another futile attempt to concentrate. Although it was the thing my mind couldn't escape, the words just escaping me.

_Sept. 19, 2000_

_Dear Hermione, _

_Happy Birthday! I_

That was as far as I got. She wanted to know who I was. But I was so worried that she would be disappointed. She might even get angry if she knew it was me.

"Hey Fred?" George called. "Do we have any more boxes of Whiz-bangs?"

"Basic or Deluxe?" I shouted back.

"Basic," he answered.

"The cupboard under the Edible Dark Marks," I responded.

"Thanks!"

I looked to the corner of the desk where a neatly wrapped purple gift sat, tied with a prim purple bow. It was a book, of course. I picked out a lovely leather picture album and filled every page with memories or our days at Hogwarts, mostly of pictures of her, Harry, and Ron. But there were also pictures of the many celebrations in the Gryffindor common room, the D.A., Christmas and Easter holidays at The Burrow, and even of our time at Grimmauld Place. But I still couldn't decide if I should give it to her in person, or just attach it to an owl.

My gaze traveled from the gift to the opened envelope marked 'Anon.' I'd read it several times over the last few days. I reached for it once more.

"Hey Fred," George called again, this time he popped his head in the door. "Did that guy, Dagworth, ever pay off his balance?"

"No," I answered. "Don't sell him anything more until it's paid."

"Got it." He quickly returned to the store.

How did he ever expect me to do the books when he kept interrupting? Not that I was actually doing the book work… I reread the letter.

_Sept. 15, 2000_

_Dear Friend,_

_I understand your apprehension about revealing who you are. I too enjoy our correspondence. I've never felt so free to be myself. You've accepted me in ways that I never thought anyone could. I find myself waiting anxiously for each letter you send. But our friendship still feels a little empty. You know so much about me and I haven't a clue who you are. I want to be able to know you as well as you've come to know me. _

_I know you're nervous, but I **must** know who you are. Perhaps a letter isn't the place. Why don't you choose a date and we'll meet for ice cream at Florean's?_

_Your Friend, _

_Hermione Granger_

I could just picture it. Me sitting at Florean's while she looks around for some prince charming. She finds out it's me and starts yelling for interfering and reading her journal entry. I knew that she liked me, and I'd always liked her too, but never have we considered each other good friends, just friends through Ron.

"Hey Fred!" George yelled.

I huffed in frustration as George yelled from again from the front of the store.

"Did you fill that ministry order for Ron?"

"Yes!" I yelled back. I didn't know why that was so important at the moment. Ron owled saying that he and Harry caught their man and were coming home, but that wasn't for two more days.

I placed the letter back on the table and heard the door swing open.

"What, George?!" I swiveled my chair to glare at my twin only to see that it wasn't him. "Oh, Hermione. I'm sorry."

She chuckled. "I'm here to pick up that ministry order for Ron. George said you had it ready?"

"Uh, yeah." I stood up and started shifting through the boxes stacked against the wall.

Hermione gasped quietly. "Fred?"

I turned around, my hands still up in the air holding a small box that I had been shifting to the side. I followed her gaze to the desk and panicked.

"You're… you're 'Anon'?" Her eyes were locked on the unfinished letter and the envelope she had addressed.

She glanced up at me and our eyes met. I was frozen. I couldn't think of a single thing to do or say. This wasn't any of the ways I was planning on revealing myself. I just waited. Waited for her to do or say something more.

"Oh, Fred!" I was completely stunned as she leapt against me, her arms flew around my neck. She stood on her tip-toes but I was still pulled down slightly to her height. The box I was holding had crashed to the floor and the shoes that were in it began walking across the floor on their own accord. My mind finally seemed to unfreeze and I wrapped my arms around her waist. Her body trembled and I felt her silent tears on my neck.

"I can't believe it's you." She pulled away and looked back into my eyes. She gently brushed the tears off of her soft pink cheeks and smiled bashfully. She looked as if she were glowing.

I smiled warmly and brushed her cheek. "Happy Birthday, Hermione."

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